


cryotherapy

by bishounen_curious



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, Ice Play, M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Temperature Play, very gentle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 08:10:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11157783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bishounen_curious/pseuds/bishounen_curious
Summary: Victor ruins his morning because he wants to try combining an ice cube and a blowjob.





	cryotherapy

**Author's Note:**

> do you ever just fixate on one silly thing and then gotta write it out of your brain
> 
> unbeta’d, ill-advised, ready to party. 
> 
> side note: original title was “better than zucchini” but my fucko friend did me a solid and said NO DO NOT DO THAT lmao thanks jay

As he was determining which of the two zucchinis was the better purchase, Yuuri felt a sudden vibration in his pocket.

_> > babe come over _

Jeez.

To be honest, this was an irksome message. For several reasons. One being it was from Victor. That was dicey in itself. Second, it 9:13AM on a Sunday. Both of them knew EXTREMELY WELL that this was grocery store time, one of Yuuri’s favorite moments of the week. One of the _only_ times he really could take ownership of. A pause of peace where Yuuri was allowed, encouraged even, to enjoy silence, where he could mumble to himself as he calculated which products were the better buys, where he could pretend to be just another anonymous lower, middle class millennial man buying cheap snacks amongst all the grandmas in town. Grocery time was normal. Comforting. Meditative.

It was pretty much an agreement between the couple that Victor was NOT to disturb Yuuri in this sacred time. Hence, this message was _friggin_ annoying.

And third — well, this one was the absolute kicker. _Victor was inviting him over to Yuuri’s own house._

He stopped himself from instinctively thumbing out a reply. A text conversation was going to be beyond stressful, so Yuuri dropped the zucchini into his shopping basket and dialed Viktor’s number to get right to it.

Barely into the second ring, the Russian picked up and purred in English, “Ooooh, cutting right to the chase, are we?”

“What _chase_?” Yuuri’s voice, unfortunately, sounded more whiney than aggravated. He wasn’t exactly starting out strong… “Victor, I’m _shopping_ right now.” Hopefully that emphasis would remind his partner just _exactly_ what he was interrupting.

There was only a slight beat of hesitation before Victor responded. “This is important, though. Come home.”

Uh-oh, that didn’t sound good. 

How many times had Yuuri explained that he needed explicit information, or else his brain would immediately conjure every worst-case scenario that could possibly occur? He started to feel shaky, a little nauseous. “Is everything okay? Are my parents sick? How’s Makkachin —“

A bubble of laughter interrupted Yuuri’s anxiety spiral. “Sweet pea, shhh. Nothing bad’s going on. Promise.” There was a pause, and Yuuri only felt more embarrassed because he could perfectly visualize that loving smirk on the other end of the line. It would’ve been beyond infuriating and patronizing if Victor hadn’t been such an expert at turning Yuuri into a gooey mush. “I wouldn’t send a joke text if there was something serious going on.”

Yuuri bristled, eyeing the pair of green zucchinis lying limply in his shopping basket. “…I know.”

“So,” Victor hummed in response, “Come home. I promise it’s worthwhile.” And as an afterthought, “I’ll go shopping with you later, ‘kay?” Yuuri immediately heard the lie go dead. Did he just — ?

Well, Victor did know how to execute a power move.

Dismayed, yet admittedly curious, Yuuri returned both zucchinis and the rest of his produce back to their displays, mouthing a _sorry_ to each and every item as he shuffled towards the store exit. 

—

Before he even fully stepped through the threshold of his home, Victor grabbed his arm and proceeded to yank him up the stairs to, presumably, Yuuri’s bedroom. Victor was notoriously on his rudest behavior, but today so far he was acting positively _heinous_. 

Between garbled gasps and protests from Yuuri most of the way, it wasn’t until they were already upstairs and halfway to the bedroom that he noticed Victor was also clutching a frosty glass full of ice cubes. 

Oh god, that was foreboding. Yet, Yuuri knew it was fruitless to ask. Victor would die before he let Yuuri steal his thunder.

After entering the cramped box that was Yuuri bedroom (that the two of them had recently been sharing), Victor whistled an unfamiliar tune as he casually locked the door. Great. Victor beamed as he then shoved Yuuri onto his own bed. All the while, still gripping that cup of ice.

“So,” Victor started as he crouched down onto his knees before Yuuri, who was fretting away on the bed, “I was on the internet.”

That was alarming. Yuuri bit the inside of his cheek. “Ok.”

“And,” Victor attempted to smolder, “I stumbled across some _fascinating_ information.” Automatically, Yuuri’s focus drifted to the ice cup on the floor besides Victor’s kneeling legs. “And it has everything to do with the ice, love.”

Yuuri couldn’t help himself. “It’s always about the ice with us.”

Victor’s smolder fissured and he snorted. “That’s why I needed you to come home and stop looking at discounted apples or whatever.”

“ _Zucchini_.” 

Victor rolled his eyes. “Anyway, please take off your pants.”

Of course this was a sex thing. Why’d he think otherwise? Yuuri should’ve expected as much. Still didn’t make him feel any less on edge, though, and he felt empowered to let Victor know that. “Why couldn’t this wait until after I got home?”

Something shadowed over Victor’s face for a beat before his expression melted into a sweet, childish whine. “I’ve never seen a person so moody right before getting head.”

 _Really?_ He was playing this game? 

Any other time except today, not during grocery time ™, Yuuri would have unabashedly gone quiet and let Victor do whatever the hell he wanted to him. Go all pliant and act so coy and end up, in like ten minutes, horizontal. That’s how it always went. But right now, today, _oh no_ , Yuuri wasn’t going to be so easy. “I was busy and you know that.”

Victor was beyond scandalized. Someone thought they could get away with their usual schtick today, it seemed. “Somebody’s stressed today.”

It was a little empowering to see Victor not always having the upper hand. Especially in sex conversations. That was a little hot. “It’s just annoying that you expect me to do whatever you want all the time.” 

Whoosh, that knocked Victor down a peg. Or ten. It also wiped that smile and the good vibes right out of his body. If anything, the Russian became a bit fidgety, lightyears less confident. His own gaze drifted to the ice, the condensation dripping down the glass and pooling around the base of the cup on the tatami floor. 

The silence was too palpable, too dramatic. Yuuri knew this game, too. Victor was looking for a reversal from him, an apology, a guilty turn-around that would start with some gentle kissing before things got make-up sex nasty. But that wasn’t happening today. Oh no. Yuuri was a bit proud of himself for keeping a level head at times in this relationship. That was gold-medal worthy in itself.

After a few beats of silence, where the two of them stayed stony, Yuuri reached out to trace the lines of Victor’s jaw. Not a concession or an apology, though. Just a new tactic. “What does ice have to do with a blowjob, anyway?”

Victor huffed his cheeks and lilted his face away, like a moody cat. “Will you yell at me if I try to explain? If I act like I _expect_ you to say yes?”

Yikes. Someone was playing the guilt card today — or was having incredible difficulty in making genuine hurt not look so fake. It was hard to tell sometimes…

As much fun as it was to have the upper hand, this was becoming exhausting. Maybe just biting the bullet was the best choice at this point. Yuuri’s fingertips traveled down the edge of the Russian’s jaw and prodded at those soft, pouted, recently-chapsticked lips. “Show me.”

That certainly put some pep back in Victor’s step, alright. It was the guilt card after all.

Dammit. Oh well.

Yuuri smiled and laughed as he pulled his sweatpants down his thighs. Victor cooed, and then took the liberty to lunge up and pin Yuuri down into his bed so they could enjoy a few minutes of kissing. It was nothing but playful and sweet, and Yuuri briefly wondered why exactly he’d been so annoyed before. Images of those zucchini flashed through his brain, and suddenly he was nothing but giggles.

Victor mistakenly took that as ticklish laughter, and pressed a new slew of kisses all over Yuuri’s neck, the hollow of his throat. He mumbled something, and Yuuri couldn’t hear him over the now tickle-inspired mirth. “What’d you say?”

Victor, who was mid-lifting up the hem of Yuuri’s t-shirt, shook his head. “Nothing.”

And then, he proceeded to dot sweet, small nips on the fleshy sections on Yuuri’s lower stomach. The new giggles from that were a bit breathier. Still tickled, but a little something else, too. Something that made Yuuri gnaw his lower lip, and strained his neck forward to watch Victor tease the ever-living hell out of him.

Yuuri could’ve let this go on for _days_ but his curiosity was winning over. Swallowing, he croaked, “The ice will melt,” not knowing if that was even relevant for Victor’s plans or not.

Pausing, Victor provocatively narrowed his eyes. “Glad to see you’re warming up to this.”

Yuuri tried to bat Victor away because _that was terrible_ , but all that did was make the Russian snicker. With triumph, he grabbed those offended arms and planted one more kiss directly over his belly button before craning over the bed to retrieve the ice. Yuuri just watched him through his smudged glasses with a glower.

As Yuuri had teased, there was indeed a bit of water pooled at the bottom of the glass already. Victor sloshed it around, the clink of the ice against the glass under the upmost scrutiny from his judgmental gaze. But after a few more shakes and hums under his breath, Victor shrugged and made a noise that vaguely suggested _I’ll guess that’ll do_. Yuuri just groaned.

And then he yelped when Victor pressed the icy glass against the inside of his bare thigh. “Victor!”

Victor’s brow only furrowed. “Not exactly the reaction I wanted.”

“Well!”

Clicking his tongue, Victor retracted his phone from his pocket and started to play around with it. He seemed to be searching for something. Probably the source of this bizarre information.

Yuuri was right on the money. “It says right here,” Victor shoved his phone in Yuuri’s face petulantly, “That the cold is supposed to feel good! Especially if I suck on one of them before sucking you.”

And indeed, Victor was telling the truth. That’s what it said. But, conveniently omitted by Victor in his original pitch, the info was sourced from a very trashy online magazine, which made Yuuri sigh again, but this time for another reason entirely. “I believe you… I just — why?”

It was Victor’s turn to sigh, but his version contained an ample amount more melodrama than Yuuri’s. “Because the bedroom’s been boring lately.” At Yuuri’s flushing, Victor bit his lip to keep him from outwardly laughing. “Not you. But content-wise.”

Yikes. “We switch things up, sometimes!”

At that, Victor snorted. “Name the last time we did. Besides alternating who tops.”

Yuuri opened his mouth, but no sound came out. If he was hesitating, then maybe Victor was onto something.

“Point taken, I see.” 

The Russian brought the frosty glass to his lips and knocked it back, letting the ice cubes noisily tumble towards his open mouth. Yuuri scrunched his nose in mild distaste — he was still pretty offended from being told sex with him was boring — and then he gawked as Victor tilted the cup back upright and plunked it back on the floor. In his mouth, presumably, from the way he puffed his cheeks, there was an ice cube in there. Victor moved it around his mouth for a few moments before he started to chew it, and swallowed the tiny, watery broken pieces. Then, without any warning whatsoever, he dove down to Yuuri’s neck and began pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to his neck. 

Wet, and unnaturally chilly kisses.

Another yelp slipped out of his mouth, but it was quieter, less discomfort and more surprise. Yuuri instinctively closed his fingers around the fabric of Victor’s shirt, and with quiet fascination, allowed Victor to continue trailing gentle, cold kisses along the sensitive expanse of skin underneath his jaw and curve up toward his right ear. It felt so foreign, so bizarre, having cold shivers travel the same paths in his body that aroused heat usually did.

And his nipples were already getting hard, so that was a plus.

A soft huff of breath exhaled from Yuuri’s mouth, and Victor took pause so he could gloatingly smolder (again with the friggin smolder) _I told you so._ But before Yuuri had the chance to quip back, Victor was back at his skin, finding new spots that made more of those breathy huffs leave him.

Ok. Maybe this wasn’t going to be a total dud. Victor might’ve hit the sexual jackpot with this discovery.

Still didn’t mean it was worth interrupting his shopping trip, but whatever.

The chill inside Victor’s mouth was starting to warm away, and Yuuri took that to initiate a hair grab, something that Victor pretended to loathe, even at this point in their relationship, and forcefully guided Victor up to meet Yuuri’s lips. Victor hummed into it, a gravelly hum that made Yuuri throb with the first real twinge of want all morning. A want that encouraged Yuuri to melt the rest of the cold out of Victor’s mouth.

After some time, Yuuri broke them apart and leaned his nose against Victor’s, his hand still pulling his hair in a sweet, mild way. Victor grinned, clearly in love. “Satisfactory?”

Yuuri smirked, touching his other palm to Victor’s cheek. “Almost.” As Victor blinked in confusion, Yuuri exploited his confusion t to snatch an ice cube from the glass below and shove it down Victor’s shirt.

Victor Nikiforov _squealed_. 

“Now it is.” 

Yuuri snickered as he savored the scene of Victor catapulting himself off the bed, scrambling to untuck his shirt from his pants in order to free the ice cube trapped against his oh-so delicate flesh. All too quickly the ice cube plopped to the floor and shattered. Victor’s face went full puppy then and there. “How could you!?”

Guilt trips weren’t going to work a second time in a row. Not today. Yuuri just shrugged and continued feeling smug and victorious. Victor was nowhere near placated by that, obviously. And that was perfect. For a few delicious moments at least: until the spite left Yuuri’s system and finally had it in him to invite Victor back onto the mattress beside him. 

Of course, like any smart partner, Victor was skeptical. “Did you enjoy enough revenge?”

“Yes.” Yuuri stuck his tongue out. “But I didn’t get enough of what you were doing before.”

Victor’s eyes narrowed quizzically before it hit him. “Wait… you _liked_ it?”

Yuuri just patted the bed again, making some silly, grabby hands at the other. And that was that. Victor hopped back into bed with renewed excitement. This was far too easy, managing Victor’s mood swings. Especially when sex was utilized as the control switch. 

Back into bed and back to kissing. No ice yet, just heated, pliant mouths and fingers pressing against each other. Nice, lazy Sunday kissing. Back rubbing and hair playing and murmured sweetness. The best kind of kissing, really. The kind that made Yuuri not as mad as he’d been before.

Victor must’ve sensed the slight change of heart, because immediately, like clockwork, he started dragging those kisses down. Down along his neck, hiking up Yuuri’s t-shirt to go beyond his chest, his pudgy tummy, towards the very thin skin along the lowest part of his hips, just creeping above the hem of his briefs. Yuuri’s breath wasn’t exactly labored, but it wasn’t quite even, either.

“Can I?” Victor entreated while pressing his silky palm against the fleshy inside of his partner’s thigh. Yuuri just nodded wordlessly, and attempted to stay that way when Victor dragged his knuckles against the slowly-swelling outline of him underneath the slim, dark fabric of his briefs.

Victor mumbled something indecipherable under his breath again as he slipped the hem low enough to free Yuuri, and then took the tip into his mouth.

Velveteen, warm. Yuuri’s socked heels pressed into his bed, and attempted to not let himself lose composure so embarrassingly fast. Victor’s mouth was doing sweet, slow deliberate movements, sucks and saliva and gentle flicks of his tongue, and just eased down, all the way down. Down enough that Yuuri garbled out a stuffy moan into his bicep, Victor then with throaty laughter against him with just the _perfect_ vibration —

All right, no composure. That was fine.

Yet, this particular oral didn’t last long. And it wasn’t supposed to, anyway. Victor popped off with a smug look at Yuuri’s balmy, sweaty face. “But we haven’t even gotten to the good part yet, love.”

Eyeing the now soaking-wet, condensation-riddled glass, Yuuri just rolled his eyes, albeit a little anxiously-excited. “It better be good.”

Victor’s answer was his fingers squeezing around Yuuri’s cock, winking.

Lord.

Victor had the glass again and knocked back another rather melty and smallish ice cube. Rolling it around inside, Yuuri watched with minor (turned-on) terror as Victor eventually crunched it, swallowed, and then gestured with his head, asking permission to go for it. Yuuri gulped, nodded.

Gently, so gently, Victor brushed his fringe out of his eyes, so he could get a good look up at Yuuri of course, and fluttered a cool kiss against the burning underside of his shaft.

What’d Victor expect? A gasp? A moan? A screech of pain? An instant recoil?

Definitely not the burst of laughter shooting past Yuuri’s lips.

Pulling away, Victor screwed his face in a strange concoction of miffed humiliation. “You can just say it was a bad idea, you don’t have to laugh at me.”

“It tickles!” Yuuri bubbled.

Victor’s expression only soured. “My apologies.”

“No, listen!” Propping himself up, Yuuri had planned to look Victor straight in the face and say something sexy, something playful and flirty that would have Victor’s icy mouth back down there doing the work they both wanted him to do. But, oh no, anxiety wasn’t so permissive, so giving. All Yuuri could do was stammer out, between Victor’s grumpy expression and Yuuri’s suddenly more-throbby erection, that it was _good laughter_.

That didn’t mean anything. _Good laughter_. C’mon.

But wounded pride and humiliation made for quick reconciliation, apparently. Because Victor asked him point blank, “Good laughter means you want me to keep going?”

Yuuri was doing an awful lot of nodding this morning, wasn’t he?

Smooth sailing after that. More like chilly continuity, really, as Victor resumed dotting those oddly cold kisses along the length of his cock. Yuuri kept squirming, giggling, because it was exactly that: ticklish. But wonderful ticklish, bedroom ticklish, something so good that it blended his moans and laughter into something airy and gentle. Victor seemed to enjoy this rather much, if his own grin and renewed fervor were anything to go by.

A handful of spots were more sensitive than others. Like the underside where his head met his shaft — that got Yuuri wincing from the cold a little harsher, he felt that one in his nipples, but after a second of prolonged attention, he could melt into the sensation and buzz along with Victor’s tongue. Which he also felt in his nipples, but in such a different way.

But then Victor’s mouth got adventurous and sucked that spot, and a terrifyingly-embarrassing sound ripped out of Yuuri’s throat.

Victor clicked his tongue. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

Yuuri stifled his face with the closest pillow and groaned. But then those protesting groans were pleasure groans because Victor was taking him into his still-cold mouth, like cool bath water, and started sliding him down his throat. 

Every bob was upping Victor’s mouth by a degree. The cold had made his mouth a noticeable amount less wet, but the temperature shift was dizzying. But now, the warmth was returning with the wet, and Yuuri was getting back into familiar territory. His belly tightened, and he let his hips roll just ever so slightly into the reeling rhythm Victor was dictating to him.Yuuri’s grip guided his silvery head all the way to the base, tugging him all the way back up to only swallow again. Victor’s eyes were heavy lidded.

They didn’t need words for this part — both of them were pretty attuned to what the other needed.

The cold completely vanished soon enough. And when Victor pulled off, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, he suspiciously posed, “More ice?”

Without a beat, Yuuri replied, “More ice.” Victor popped it in his mouth quick hardly before Yuuri even finished speaking.

Blowjobs weren’t supposed to be cold, so when Yuuri began receiving some straight-up wintry head, he squawked. “Ease into it?” Victor tsked at the wobbly request. 

From there, only shallow sucks to the tip of his prick. In all honesty, the sensation was super weird and was keeping his limbs rather tense, but _fuuuuuuuuuck_ that almost stinging suction was doing things to Yuuri that were making his body positively _pulse_.

“You like that, don’t you?” Victor crooned against his shaft, hot breath contrasting with his icy tongue. “So vocal.”

Yuuri hadn’t even realized he was making any noise. Yikes.

But Victor wasn’t teasing him, he realized. The Russian’s pale cheeks were flushed a lovely rose color, his brow with the hint of a fine sheen of sweat, breath puffing more than usual against his feverish skin. Oh no. Victor was all-in right now — like occasionally palming his own dick through his pants all-in. Might as well take advantage of that.

“It feels good.” Yuuri rasped, thrusting his hips slightly, trying to get Victor’s mouth resuming its previous activity. “Can’t decide if you’re better with this or on the rink.”

Victor barked out some laughter there, a genuine glimpse of incredulous joy lighting up his features that made Yuuri’s heart leap because _he did that_. “My little katsudon is feeling snide today.”

“Snide?” Yuuri huffed with some cattiness of his own. “That’s probably not the right word.”

“Then what is?”

“Giving. Patient.” Yuuri’s smirk only sweetened. “Deserving of a medal, maybe.”

“Very snide, and very spicy, too.”

Yuuri snickered through his shut lips, and Victor leaned up to run his hands through his hair. Sadly, that intimate moment didn’t linger too long. There were things that needed to be attended to. Victor flicked Yuuri’s nose affectionately once more before drooping back south, where he smugly took a frigid lick up the entire length of his prick. Yuuri seized for a flash, then eased lifelessly into the pillows.

_Yes._

Victor’s fingertips were even brisk, and that would’ve been manageable if they weren’t playing around with his balls. It was torture to not — stay composed? Embarrass himself from reacting too strongly? Comprehend just how much Victor was savoring the control he wielded here?

Yuuri decidedly kept whining, jerking his hips in time with the sensations. He closed his eyes — no more thinking. At least right now.

Victor’s mouth halted, pulled off, the feeling of fingertips still smoothing over his skin, keeping Yuuri’s nerves tingly. A crunch of ice, glass being placed on the solid floor, then _ahhhhhhhhh_. Victor was trying to kill him, that much was clear. That mouth was _ridiculous_. And that throat. The pillow was back over Yuuri’s face, and it felt better to cry out now. Muffled into the fluff, biting the pillowcase when he just _had_ to. 

He felt so twitchy all over, more so than usual. And the fact that an orgasm was building nicely ahead of schedule didn’t help that. Maybe Victor was trying to make him come quick as an apology? Quick satisfaction to remedy the forgotten vegetables… _Pretty silly_ , Yuuri thought. _Pretty damn silly_.

So why the hell was it working? Why’d he feel like this dumb blowjob was suddenly justified?

Damnit.

“Yuuri,” Victor was off him again and croaked, words ghosting over the base of his cock, “How do you wanna come?”

His hips twitched. “Mouth,” he slurred into the pillow, feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen but not really caring about it either, and Victor growled. Yes. Victor kissed both hip creases before sliding his lukewarm throat back around him. And swallowed.

A handful of strokes from his fingers, a few bobs, even fewer swallows, and the wind was knocked out of Yuuri’s lungs when he shuddered out one of the meaner orgasms he’d had of late. Taking him by force, a bit harsh and far too quick. Just _mean_. But _ughhhhhhhhhh_. 

Victor even gagged on his spunk — something he usually was skilled enough not to do. But still, he sucked Yuuri through the pleasure until he was shying away from his mouth, whining to _stop_. Victor popped off, breath a mess, and planted kisses along Yuuri’s left oblique. Needy, desperate kisses. By now, those kisses had their heat back. Sweet, sexy, even a little consoling.

Yuuri held the pillow closer. Breathing was overrated, and so was showing Victor just how lovely that had been. He needed this moment more than anything — some pillow privacy. 

Moments lazed by, and Victor’s kisses trailed upward, up the right side too, until he decided to linger on Yuuri’s now-love-bitten neck, or what he could get to at least with the pillow in the way. Yuuri was definitely light-headed, a bit faint from the lack of fresh air, so he weakly tossed it away, so he could wrap his arms instead around Victor’s back and finally concede to heated flesh and smiles.

“You’re warm.” Yuuri murmured with a happy lilt. Victor stayed quiet and remained kissing his jawline.

Sounds from outside, from a town now fully awake, were carried into the room with passing breezes, fluttering curtains. Yuuri smiled, rubbing lazy circles in Victor’s back. Drowsy circles with a bit of nail to them, just to let him know that this wasn’t quite exactly finished yet. Oh no. Yuuri scratched the nape of Victor’s neck, and the Russian shivered a little. Body language that screamed _please_.

But before one thing led to another: “You’re not out of grocery duty, y’know.” Yuuri remarked.

Victor whistled, “Oh, of course. Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Hope no one stole the zucchini I wanted.”

Victor snorted, trying to weasel his way underneath his satiated boyfriend so he could get some, too. “No one steals my man’s zucchini and gets away with it.”

“Absolutely.” Yuuri laughed, straddling Victor’s hips, glass in hand.

**Author's Note:**

> this is what post-grad college life looks like, kids. not the great oral. unsatisfying grocery store experiences.
> 
> but really. idk. my writing is very different here (and bad). let me know if it sucks (i know it does).
> 
> and if you want to commission me please contact me at bishounen-curious.tumblr.com


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